


Far from the Tree

by SailorChibi



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Awkward Conversations, Awkwardness, Babies, Bucky Barnes Is a Good Friend, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, General Ross is an asshole, Hand wavy science, Hurt/Comfort, I can't guarantee we'll get all the way there, I'm aiming for a happy ending, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Kid Fic, M/M, Miscommunication, Misunderstandings, Parent Steve Rogers, Parent Tony Stark, Platonic Cuddling, Platonic Hugging, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Pre-Slash, Protective Natasha Romanov, Protective Steve Rogers, Tony Stark Has Daddy Issues, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, a dear john letter never solves problems, and a good uncle, and general experimentation, and he can't bear to lay any weakness out there for the team to see, and no one else realizes that yet, babies are hard work, because this is tony, but he's an excellent parent anyway, but i'm trying, but then can we blame him, guilt trips, he's not entirely wrong, he's not sure how to put himself back together, it's really annoying, literally implied, no one in the MCU talks to each other, pre-tony stark/steve rogers - Freeform, science makes it happen, someone needs to sit steve down and tell him that, steve's a bit of a bully, the man deserves to be taken out back and shot, tony is broken, tony stark has insecurity issues, tony stark is an awesome dad, tony stark is self sacrificing, tony thinks the team hates him, vaguely mentioned children being grown in laboratories, what goes around comes around STEVE
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-17
Updated: 2016-11-11
Packaged: 2018-08-15 10:40:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8053159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SailorChibi/pseuds/SailorChibi
Summary: If you need me, I’ll be there.
  Tony never intended to take Steve up on that. But this isn't about him. It's about their daughter.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kigichi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kigichi/gifts).



> So this started when a scene that came to me one day (the opening scene, as a matter of fact) and I showed it to a friend and she demanded more, and when I said I didn't know about that she put money in my hands and that is a terrific motivator.
> 
> This work is heavily inspired by Kelly Clarkson's song [Piece by Piece](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LqCqYP7hDWI) because I think that song is _so_ Tony, and it's also where the title comes from.

It was long past midnight when Tony crossed the Wakandan border. Exhausted didn't begin to cover his state of mind, but he refused to stop for fear that, if he took even a few minutes to rest, he wouldn't be able to keep going. And he couldn't stop when he was this close. He kept moving, kept smiling, kept rambling, all to bluff his way past the guards and be granted an audience with the King and his unofficial guests.

Surprisingly, Clint was the only one who showed up openly armed. But it seemed safest to assume that everyone else was, too. Tony's gaze skated over Sam, Scott, Clint, Natasha - and finally landed on Steve. All of them looked so cold, so unfriendly. Considering that they hadn't parted on the best of terms, Tony curled instinctively around the bundle in his arms.

T'Challa joined them a moment later, still fully dressed in spite of the late hour. He surveyed Tony for a moment, and then he asked, "What brings you to my doorstep, Tony Stark?" 

"I... I'm..." All of the rehearsed words dried up in his head. He'd spent hours thinking of what he would say, the explanations he could give, and all of it was gone in the span of two seconds. Tony stared, not at the King, but at Steve, as though that would be enough. The silence dragged on.

And then the bundle in his arms started to cry. Frankly, it was amazing that hadn't happened sooner. Tony winced a little, tried to soothe it without letting on what was inside, because he didn't know if this was a safe place yet or not. There was a long, shocked pause, broken only by the pitiful wails, before Scott finally spoke.

"Are you carrying a baby?" He looked around at the others. "Wait. I'm not the only hearing this, right?"

"Tony?" Steve said, eyebrows high.

"She's yours," Tony blurted out, and okay, maybe that wasn't the best way to go about doing it, but he was just - he was so _tired_. "Yours and - and mine. Ours."

"And Stark has finally lost it," said Clint, drawing an arrow from the quiver on his back and fitting it to his bow. Tony had built that bow, once upon a time. He could still remember the grin on Clint's face when Tony handed it over to him. At the sight of it, or maybe at the unwanted memory, Tony flinched. Natasha silently reached out and set a restraining hand on Clint's arm.

"Ours?" Steve repeated. "Tony, I know the future has come a long way, but that's -"

"Ross was experimenting," Tony said to his shoes. There was a hole in the right one, his big toe poking through. His tongue felt numb, words tripping out. "He wanted the serum. He wanted - he tried cloning but none of the test subjects were surviving the process, see, we're not that far along and it wasn't working for him, so he thought that the next generation might be more diluted, more workable, and at the same time they could get a Stark that actually listened -"

"Not possible," Clint stage whispered.

"But we're both male," said Steve at the same time, looking at Natasha and T'Challa, as though they might offer up some words of wisdom.

"Science," Tony said, shrugging. There was a better explanation, of course. It had to do with a hell of a lot of research and some experimentation that was definitely illegal. But Ross had made it a point to tell him as little as possible, and besides that biology had never been Tony's strongest point. Especially not when he hadn't slept for the past five days. It was taking everything he had just to keep functioning at this point, never mind delving into a highly scientific explanation that only a handful of people would actually understand.

Steve scowled, crossing his arms. "How would he even get a sample from me?"

"Had sex since you woke up?" Tony said, past the point of being tactful.

The tips of Steve's ears colored, but he nodded.

"All it takes is one woman or man working for the wrong side. One condom." At one time Tony might've leered. Or smirked. Now he just looked at Steve, willing him to believe what was an admittedly ludicrous story.

"And I bet they had so much trouble getting your sample," Clint drawled. The arrow was still drawn.

"I didn't give it. They took it," Tony said without thinking. It was true, but he didn't like the frankly astonished look Clint gave him. Or the frowns that were beginning to appear on everyone else's faces. It was like looking at a crowd of strangers. He shivered, holding the crying bundle a little tighter, and wondered if this had been a mistake after all.

But he had nowhere else to go.

"Okay, this is way past the point of weird, but frankly you look like you're in shock and I think you need to sit down and maybe drink something warm," said Sam, squinting at Tony.

"I'm fine. I just - would you keep her?" Tony said, turning to Steve.

"What?" Steve recoiled, and Tony's heart sank.

This was the only place she would be safe.

"They grew her in a test tube," he said tightly, willing Steve to understand. "The others - she's an experiment for them, Steve. Not a baby. I can't keep her safe. I thought maybe you - please. Please." Tony hated begging. His voice cracked as his face flushed, but it would be worth if it Steve said yes.

"What's the matter, Stark? Not getting along with Ross anymore?" Clint asked.

Tony ignored him, ignored all of them in favor of staring pleadingly at Steve, and that was a mistake. He missed Natasha getting closer. She was like that even now, stealthy as anything, and he didn't realize how close she was until she put a hand on his shoulder. He startled badly, flinching and ducking his head over the baby, staying perfectly still in anticipation.

The whole room went quiet.

"Tony -"

"They called her Number 009-XP," Tony said before Natasha could finish. "I - when I took her, I thought - I called her Rita."

"Rita?" Steve repeated.

"Margherita," Tony said, and then - "Margaret." He looked up at Steve, but not at his eyes.

"Peggy," Steve whispered. It hurt, but it was just one more ache on top of the pile and Tony was numb by now.

He was losing feeling in his arms now, too. Numb on the inside and out. He carefully unwrapped the blanket. Rita's brown eyes were glassy with tears, like she wanted to cry and was too tired or too hungry. She stared up at him accusingly, and Tony - Tony felt like worst kind of monster.

"Please," he said for the third time, holding the baby out.

"Just where are you planning to go?" Scott asked.

Tony ignored him, watching Steve. Finally, after Sam nudged him pointedly in the back, Steve stepped forward and very awkwardly took the baby. He was all thumbs, holding her as though he expected her to explode.

"Tony, are you - Tony!"

The floor was comfortable, Tony discovered. And cool. He rested his burning face against the stone, every muscle in his body loose. There were voices around him, T'Challa summoning guards and people yelling his name, Rita's howls rising above it all. She was safe now, though, and that was all that mattered. His eyes slipped shut and he stopped fighting.

\--

It was dark when Tony woke up. Dark and quiet. Too quiet. He jerked upright, arms feeling way too empty after weeks of holding onto something, and couldn't breathe until he spotted the baby. She was sleeping in a small bassinet right beside the bed. There was a new yellow blanket tucked around her. Her wispy blonde hair had been brushed, and she was holding onto a small, stuffed black panther toy. 

She was okay.

The tension drained out of him in a rush. "Jesus, you scared me," he said to her, setting a trembling hand on the side of the bassinet. He'd intended to leave as soon as he found Steve, but apparently he'd been more tired than he realized. 

Rita slept on, oblivious to his shaking, and Tony put his free hand to his face and sighed. Christ but he was a mess. He dropped his hand into his lap and looked around. The room was way too nice to be anything but a room in T'Challa's palace. It made sense, he supposed. They wouldn't want him here, of course, but they wouldn't turn out an unconscious man either. Even if it was Tony Stark. Now that he was awake, he should slip out quietly before anyone realized he was up.

As though sensing his intent, Rita stirred and began to whimper. It was a tell-tale sound that meant she was hungry, and something in Tony's chest ached. He'd never run out of money before; the cash Pepper had given him was long ago, spent on travel and bribes, and he was positive that all of his accounts were being monitored. He hadn't dared reach out to Pepper or Rhodey for fear of being found or getting them in trouble.

He'd never had someone depending on him that he couldn't feed. He knew what that was like now. In terms of fear, it ranked up there with being paralyzed while Obadiah Stane removed the arc reactor from his chest.

"I don't have any food. I'm sorry, baby girl," he whispered.

All of his millions and he couldn't even feed his daughter. 

He set his feet on the ground just as she started to cry and pushed himself up. The room spun and a sense of nausea threatened to crawl up his throat. Tony swallowed the feeling down and, once he felt steady enough, gingerly picked Rita up. She was a tiny little thing, delicate, and even now he had the feeling that he could break her so easily if he wasn't careful.

It wasn't hard to find the kitchens. The castle was enormous, but Tony just had to follow his nose. It was late enough that the chef was gone, but the delicious smells remained. He held Rita in the crook of one arm and rummaged through the cupboards with his free hand, looking for anything that might resemble formula. Or baby food. What were the chances that the King of Wakanda kept baby food stocked?

The floor creaked behind him. Tony whirled around, seizing a knife, putting Rita between him and the counter and lifting the weapon threateningly. Across the kitchen, Steve stopped short and held his hands up in the universal pose of the non-threatening. Tony stared at him for a long time, heart pounding, before the realization that there was no threat (not yet, anyway, he didn't think Steve would attack while he was holding the baby) sank in.

"Sorry," Steve said after a long, awkward pause. "I didn't mean to scare you. I just - Natasha saw you leave your room."

Tony hadn't even noticed her. Jesus, he was slipping. He slowly set the knife back down. The light clatter startled Rita; she opened her mouth and let out the healthy cry of a hungry babe. It cut him to the core. Steve flinched, looking very much like he wanted to cover his ears.

"What's wrong with her?" he asked, way too loud.

"She's hungry," Tony said quietly. He'd imagined a situation not unlike this once. Their daughter crying because she was hungry, and Tony would climb out of bed to tend to her. Steve would follow because he was a dork like that, and they'd stand in the dark together, Steve's arms around his waist, Tony holding their child, swaying together while she ate. His throat ached at the space between them, notably because he didn't even know if he wanted Steve to come closer.

Steve looked at him like he was stupid. "Then feed her."

Fuck. Tony's hands trembled. He hid it by adjusting Rita, said stiffly, "I don't have any food."

"Why didn't you buy some?"

He'd never said the words out loud. His face grew hot with shame, and he couldn't look at Steve. "I don't have any money."

"You don't -" Steve cut himself off. There was a long silence. Then Steve swore, low and violent, like Tony had never heard from him before. His head jerked up, startled, but Steve was already moving, stalking over to one of the cupboards at the other end of the kitchen. He jerked it open and grabbed a box, swinging around to shove it at Tony -

Tony flinched.

Steve froze. There was another pause. Then, with what seemed like a lot of restraint, he said slowly and carefully, "T'Challa had someone buy this. Clint's been showing me how to feed her. She seems to like it. Do you need me to get it ready?"

"I - please." Tony had no more words left in him than that. He had no more pride. He sank into a chair at the table, watching numbly as Steve moved around the kitchen, prepping the formula and pouring it into a sterilized bottle. This wasn't a practiced thing for Steve; he was awkward and had to read each instruction multiple times. When the bottle was ready, he handed it to Tony from such a distance that they both had to stretch.

It didn't matter. Tony got to take the bottle, and he got to slid the nipple into the mouth of his wailing daughter, and he got to see the way her eyes closed in contentment as she sucked noisily. These precious few moments were worth it, worth _anything_ , because it was all he'd have to remember after he left.


	2. Chapter 2

Family dinners were apparently a thing in Wakanda. Every night, Steve, Wanda, Natasha, Clint, Scott and Sam would gather in a dining room and eat together. Sometimes T'Challa joined them, but more often than not he was otherwise occupied. Of course, Tony was not invited: he only found out about it because he literally stumbled across them one night five days after he and Rita arrived.

He stood in the doorway for approximately ten seconds, staring at the - well, he wouldn't call it a happy scene. There was a definite tension present in the room, notably coming from Clint in particular. But they were all still there, the new Avengers team, sharing a meal and talking and laughing, and it hurt.

Tony would never be a part of this. Ever.

He left before Rita gave them away by crying, continuing on towards the kitchen. He fed her a bottle of the formula that she seemed to like so much, and made himself a sandwich. The head chef had taken a liking to him and, having cornered Tony on the second day with the kind of skills even Natasha would be envious of, ordered him to eat whatever he wanted whenever he wanted. She made it very clear that she would not be pleased if he didn't start putting some weight on. It seemed safest to obey.

In between bites of a peanut butter sandwich, he carried Rita back into the hallway and stopped short when he came face to face with Steve.

"You didn't join us," Steve said.

Tony said the first thing that came to mind. "There were no chairs."

Steve frowned. "We could've pulled up a chair, Tony. There was plenty of space."

"I'm just not up for it right now," Tony said. He shifted Rita a little because it felt like she was slipping, and Steve's eyes dropped to her. The fond look that immediately crossed Steve's face was a good thing in spite of how it made Tony feel gutted, because it had been a damn long time since Steve looked at him that way. Maybe never.

(And a part of him still wanted Steve to look at him so, so much.)

"You want her?" The words were out before Tony could stop himself. 

"Uh, sure." Steve didn't sound very certain; he held his arms out like he was getting ready to take a blanket, not a baby, and Tony raised an eyebrow. Once upon a time he would've gladly taken the chance to touch Steve under the excuse of showing him how to hold Rita, but now he kept his distance.

"Like this," he said, stuffing the last of his sandwich in his mouth and sliding his other arm under Rita's back, holding her with both now. Steve copied him, holding his arms awkwardly. Once Tony judged his pose sufficient, he gently placed Rita into Steve's arms. As he took a step back, he was pleased to note that Steve relaxed, instinctively curling her close to his body.

"She's so tiny," Steve said softly.

"She's actually grown a lot," Tony said, looking at her little face. He could remember when she was no bigger than the width of his hand, so frail and easily damaged that he'd visited her every single day just to make sure she was still okay, that Ross hadn't crossed a line yet.

When he lifted his head, Steve was frowning again. But all he said was, "You look very tired. Maybe you should rest."

"Kinda hard to sleep when she needs to be fed like every four hours," Tony said fondly. 

"I can watch her."

"Oh. Yeah. Sure." Clearly Steve wanted him to rest more so that he'd be able to leave that much faster. Tony forced a smile and took a step back into the kitchen, but he couldn't resist the temptation to watch Steve and Rita walk up the corridor.

It was the first time he'd been separated from Rita since the moment when he snuck into Ross's facility and lifted her out of that crappy bassinet. His arms felt so empty. He had to fight against the urge to run after Steve and take her back, hold her close where she belonged.

"You're leaving soon," Tony reminded himself. "There is no place for you here. No one wants you here. As soon as you're sufficiently healed, you're out."

He rubbed a hand over his dry face and sighed, then looked around the kitchen. Whatever he wanted, right? That didn't stop him from feeling a little like a thief as he took a bag of pumpkin seeds, some bananas and a box of crackers from the cupboard and took them back to Rita's nursery.

T'Challa had basically had the room re-fitted on the second day Tony was awake. There was a crib, a changing table, a toy box, a rocking chair, and a dresser and that was just the basic furniture; didn't even count the closet that was rapidly becoming stuffed from clothing. Tony had moved his own bed into the corner near the window, content to let Rita's things take over the room. When he was gone, the bed could be removed and no one would even know it had even been there.

His ribs ached when he got down on one knee, but Tony managed to grab the backpack that he had stored under the bed. One of the servants had procured it for him; he'd hated to ask, but he would need food when he left Wakanda and he wasn't expecting anyone to give any money. He slipped the pumpkin seeds and crackers into the bag and returned it under the bed. Then he broke off one of the bananas and ate it very slowly.

Steve didn't bring Rita back until late that night. Tony was laying in bed, and he pretended to be asleep when Steve knocked on the door. He couldn't help tensing when Steve slipped into the room, Scott two steps behind him, but they completely ignored him. Though even if Tony had been asleep, the resulting hushed conversation/argument as Scott tried to show Steve how to change a baby's diaper would've awoken him.

It should've been Tony showing him, but he didn't think Steve would be okay with that.

Eventually Scott muscled Steve out of the way and put Rita's diaper on himself. They must have fed her before they came in, because Steve put her into bed then. Tony opened one eye just in time to see Steve bending down to place a kiss on Rita's forehead. His throat tightened at the unexpectedly tender sight, and he was pretty sure that Scott shot him a knowing look.

But if Scott did realize he was awake, he didn't point it out to Steve. The two of them left a moment later. Only once Tony was sure they were gone did he moved, slowly getting up and tiptoeing over to Rita's crib. She was sleeping already, eyes closed, sprawled out on her back. Steve was a good dad, apparently, and there was no reason for that to make Tony feel as hollow as it did.

This was how it was going to be, though. Correction: this was how it _had_ to be. Rita definitely could not come with him, and Tony didn't belong here. He'd known that from the very beginning, but that didn't erase the way his heart ached when she snuffled and spit out her pacifier in exchange for her fingers. 

"I'm gonna miss you so much," Tony whispered, the words choking him. "But your papa's gonna take such good care of you. You'll grow up to be just as strong and righteous as he is, bambina." He touched his finger to her soft cheek.

She stirred and he hastily withdrew, knowing better than to wake a sleeping baby. It was hard to fall asleep that night.

So it went. Tony avoided everyone as much as he could, doing his best to make sure that neither he nor Rita were an annoyance. Except for those moments when Steve seemed to unfailingly known exactly where they were and would pop up, and then Tony handed her over without complaint and made himself scarce.

Eight days after they first arrived, when the team made furtive noises about an illegal mission, Tony withdrew and made up a bottle and brought it with them. He fed Rita as they walked through the halls, looking for a very specific room. His stomach twisted as they grew closer (no one had told him where it was - he hadn't asked, and he didn't think they would have told him even if he had - but it wasn't hard to figure out, either) but he made himself keep going.

The room that contained the cryogenic chamber was small, but well-maintained: there was no dust even in the corners, and there was a window that let in ample sunlight. There was even a chair in front of the chamber, and Tony suspected that Steve had spent many long hours in here, watching over his best friend.

James Barnes was inside, missing one arm, but he didn't exactly look peaceful. Resigned, maybe, or even uneasy, would've been a better description. He was probably in some amount of pain. Tony hadn't pulled any of his punches, and the serum wouldn't have healed all of the damage before he was frozen again.

Tony sat down in the chair, shifting Rita around so that she could see the frozen man. It was maybe a little macabre to show a baby this kind of thing, but he was positive that Steve wouldn't have brought her here. Steve, for all his failings, was not that stupid. And this was something important that Rita had to see, had to _know_ , and this would be Tony's one chance to tell her.

"That's your uncle," Tony said quietly, the words sounding a little too loud in the otherwise silent room. "Uncle Bucky. Sounds kinda stupid, doesn't it? Let's go with Uncle James instead."

His voice cracked. A familiar stinging began behind his eyes, but he resolutely blinked the tears away. Fourteen months had given him the space and time to come to terms with the fact that Barnes was not to blame. It was Hydra's fault, even if the Winter Soldier had been the one to carry the mission out. 

Maybe someday Tony would even be able to look at Barnes and not see his mother's dying face.

"He's a good guy," Tony said, trying to keep his voice as calm as possible. "A real good guy. Even if those bad people got into his head and fuc - uh, messed around with his mind. But I'm gonna try to fix that before I go, because I don't want your papa to be sad all the time the way mine was. I want everybody to be happy."

He stared at the fabric of Barnes's sweatshirt for a moment, just breathing. It wasn't a lie. Barnes was fucked up and not safe to be around a baby, but Tony hadn't spent the last fourteen months with his thumb up his ass. He'd been working. He thought he'd found a solution. And maybe, if Barnes was okay, Steve would devote his time to protecting Rita the way he'd protected Barnes.

Rita babbled something. Tony startled, jerked out of his thoughts, and looked down at her. She was blowing spit bubbles. He mustered up a chuckle and tucked the blanket around her a little more securely, because he didn't want her to get cold. And it was chilly, possibly a side effect from the cryogenic chamber. 

"My aunt Peggy - that would be your great-aunt, and god I wish she could've met you - used to tell me stories about Papa and Uncle James. She said they were real hell-raisers." Tony smiled at the memory; he'd always found it funny to hear Peggy saying such things in her posh accent, especially when Jarvis would try to scold her for talking that way in front of a child and Peggy would just wink at Tony and worsen her language.

"So I thought I could tell you some stories," Tony said, tapping Rita on the nose. She clumsily grabbed his finger and pulled it into her mouth. She was definitely advancing faster than most children. Because of the diluted serum in her blood? Or because she was a Stark? Or both? Tony didn't know.

Either way, he smiled again, a little tremulously. He needed some time to come to terms with waking Barnes back up, because he would have to leave immediately after. Barnes would probably be pissed off at seeing him. And frankly, there didn't seem to be a better way to fill those empty hours. At least down here and with the team away, he could be pretty sure that he wouldn't be interrupted.

"It was a wet, shitty day in late June," Tony began. "And according to Aunt Peggy, your papa was feeling bored..."


	3. Chapter 3

Rita liked Bucky. She lit up every time Tony took her into the room over the next week. Tony wasn’t sure how to feel about that. He supposed it was a good thing – she would be seeing a lot of Bucky, no doubt, because Steve would be sticking to him like glue – but at the same time it ached to think that Rita wouldn’t even remember him. He couldn’t even be sure that Steve would tell her about him. Maybe Rita would grow up thinking that her other father was a nameless entity who hadn’t even loved her.

Maybe that was better than Rita knowing the truth: that her other father loved her desperately, but was a murdering fuck-up who poisoned everything he touched.

Something that had been cracked inside of him for a long time finally broke. The tears were hot as they slid down Tony’s face, rolling off his cheek and landing on Rita’s forehead. She kicked her feet. Tony tried to smile, but the burning grief clawing at his chest was too strong. He hadn’t even known that he was capable of loving someone like this until he saw Rita for the first time. It was just _so much_.

“You’ll be safe here, Principessa,” he whispered to her. “That’s all I want. Ross won’t be able to run his tests on you, and he won't have what he needs to do it again. So he'll probably kill me instead.” He tried to make it sound lighthearted, because babies picked up more on your tone and less on your words. “That’s okay, though. As long as I protected everyone, who cares what happens to me, right?”

Rita cooed, making grabby hands at Bucky. Tony obligingly stood up, taking a step closer to the chamber. He wouldn’t let her touch the cold glass, but being so close seemed to make Rita happy enough. Tony pressed a kiss to her hair and sighed, closing his eyes as more tears fell.

He was just so tired now. The past year had been hell. And honestly, he was terrified of going back to Ross. It would not end well for him; there was only so much that Tony could give, and he was just about running on empty. Rita had proven just what lengths Ross was prepared to go to in order to get what he wanted, because there was a reason that Rita had been assigned the code Number 009-XP. Number 9. 

The memory of eight failed D.N.A. attempts on the screen, and thank god that Ross’s samples had been in short enough supply that they could only cobble together one child (well, Steve’s sample anyway. Ross had taken what he wanted from Tony once and wouldn’t have hesitated to do it again), still haunted Tony. In a different world, he could’ve had nine children to save instead of just one. There was no way he would’ve been able to save them all, which meant – well. It meant that Tony wouldn’t be here right now.

“Sometimes I wonder who your siblings would’ve been,” Tony muttered, wiping at his face. “Probably a good idea there’s just you. Stark genes aren’t something I’d wish on anyone. And at least I’m getting out of your hair before I ruined you. That’s the best gift I could you.” He tickled Rita’s belly, eliciting a happy giggle, and that finally prompted a true smile from Tony.

What did it matter what happened to him, as long as Rita was okay?

“I’m also leaving you with great protectors. So you’ll be fine.” He took a deep breath, turning back to Bucky. “Look, Barnes. I know you can’t hear this, but I’m saying it anyway. You better do whatever you can to protect her. I know she’s half mine, but she’s also half Steve and that better be enough.” 

It had to be enough.

“And maybe…” Tony blinked hard, trying to keep any more tears at bay. “Don’t tell her what a horrible person I am. Pretend that I didn’t beat you half to death, okay? I kinda want her to like me at least a little, and god knows I haven’t done much to be worth that.”

Bucky stared back at him, expression just as vacant as before, and Tony sighed. Before he could second guess himself too much, he flipped up the panel on the side of the chamber to reveal the locking mechanism. He slipped a small USB port into the side and waited just long enough to be sure that FRIDAY was doing her thing before he closed the panel again. 

It would take FRIDAY approximately forty minutes to hack through T’Challa’s system, since she was working on such reduced capacity. Tony wasn’t sure how long it would take the cryogenic chamber to unfreeze Bucky; he was banking on twenty-four hours, give or take, but the serum had the potential to completely fuck with that timeline. He checked to be sure that the package containing a letter and the updated B.A.R.F. glasses was still on the chair, then backed towards the door. 

There was no change, of course, not within the span of seconds, but it still seemed wrong to turn his back on Bucky right then.

It took the whole trip back to the nursery before Tony got himself back under control; he needed to be calm if he was going to do this, and he was already way too attached to Rita. Any longer and he wouldn’t want to leave no matter how much the team hated having him here. Fortunately, Rita didn’t seem to be picking up on his emotions. She was all sunshine and giggles as they walked. 

“You’re definitely a happy kid. Must get that from your papa,” Tony said to her as he pushed the door to the nursery open. He nearly had a heart attack when he saw Natasha, sitting in the rocking chair with one leg crossed over the other.

“Aren’t all babies usually happy?” Natasha asked. It was hard to tell whether it was a genuine question, but Tony answered her anyway.

“I don’t know. Maybe. Rita doesn’t cry much. She never has.” And Tony hated to think about why that might be. Though Rita’s silence had been a blessing on their journey to Wakanda, much of which had been through the most back-alley channels Pepper knew of, it was a whole new level of rage when he considered how Ross’s facility must have treated her when she dared to cry if that was her reaction: every once in a while she’d wail, but most of the time she cried silently. Certainly, no one there would’ve picked her up and tended to her needs, or even given her a cuddle. 

Natasha was watching him with a gaze that saw too much when Tony glanced back at her, but all she said was, “You’re the one who looks like they’ve been crying. Your eyes are all puffy.”

Tony tried not to wince. He’d always been an ugly crier. “I don’t cry,” he said. In another life, he might’ve offered the baby to Natasha. Instead, he walked over to Rita’s crib and gently lowered her onto the soft mattress, grateful for the momentary reprieve. He wondered if Natasha would come around to the idea of being an aunt, or whether she would keep Rita at arm’s length like she did almost everyone else.

“Everyone cries,” Natasha said, and it wasn’t with the disapproval Tony might have expected. Instead, it was almost kind. He chanced a peek at her, confused. She didn’t _look_ like she hated him, but then Natasha was the best actor out of all of them by far. He couldn’t figure out her game plan. Where was she going with this?

“Not me,” he answered finally, pressing a green pacifier into Rita’s mouth. She fussed a little, displeased with having been put down, but settled when he draped a white blanket over her. 

Natasha sighed. “There was a time when I could read you like an open book. Now I’m not sure if it’s because I don’t know who you are, or…” She trailed off, which was unlike her.

“We’ve all changed. Some things you can’t take back.”

“Tony.”

“What are you doing in here?” Tony asked her. He was too tired for this. He had to finish packing and then slip out while Rita was down for her nap.

“I came to make sure that you were okay.”

Bullshit. Tony wasn’t above an openly skeptical look. The last time he’d seen Natasha, she was leaving to join the others because she felt Tony had made the wrong decisions. Tony had tried not to begrudge her that; Natasha had the strongest self-preservation instincts out of all of the Avengers. It was just the way she was. That didn’t mean her departure hadn’t stung.

After a pause, she added, “And to tell you that the Barton family, Lang family and Vision arrived this morning.”

That made more sense. Thank god for Pepper. Hiring her was the one decision in Tony’s life that he couldn’t find fault with. “Good. Thanks for telling me. You can go now.”

Natasha stood, but hesitated. “What are you planning?”

“Nothing that concerns you,” Tony said, a little sharper than he’d intended. At least now he knew the real reason for her presence, and he wasn’t surprised. She was trying to figure out what he was doing. Or, more likely because this was Natasha they were talking about, she already knew everything right down to the last detail and this was her subtle way of telling him that it was time to leave. After all, it wasn’t like Tony had anything else to offer anyone, and he doubted that Scott or Clint wanted him anywhere around their families.

“Don’t do anything stupid,” Natasha said quietly.

“I am fresh out of smart ideas, Romanov. Stupid is all I have left. Now if you don’t mind –” He gestured pointedly to the door. Though she clearly didn’t want to leave just yet, she took the hint and went, closing the door behind her.

The room was smaller, more peaceful, without her. Tony ran shaking hands through his hair and took a moment to just breathe. It would be fine. He’d make his way back to the U.S. the same way he’d come. Somehow he’d figure out a way to get Pepper, Rhodey and Happy out of the line of fire, and then Tony would be the only one left to take the brunt of Ross’s anger. It was for the best. 

At least this time, his shoes didn’t have a hole in them.

Quickly, because Tony didn’t want to see anyone else, he gathered the rest of his stuff. He had the backpack stuffed with as much food as he thought he could carry, plus a little bit of money that T’Challa had given him. It galled Tony to take any of it, but he didn’t have a choice. He didn’t dare risk contacting Pepper. That, and the clothing on his back, was all he planned to take. Anything else would slow him down. 

But in spite of that, he couldn’t help himself when it came to one of Rita’s blankets. He was a terrible man for taking something that belonged to his daughter, but the fabric was soft and the same color blue as Steve’s eyes and it smelled like the both of them, and Tony folded that blanket as carefully as he could and slipped it into one of the pockets of the backpack so he’d have something to remember them both by.

He stood, for a moment, over Rita’s crib, just watching her sleep. Memorizing the rise and fall of her chest, the spray of blonde curls, the pudginess of her cheeks. He wasn’t overly worried about leaving her alone; Steve usually came to get her after her morning nap. And there were plenty of people around. If she woke up crying, it wouldn’t be long before someone, be it the team or one of the maids, came to investigate.

“Goodbye, baby girl,” Tony whispered finally, his throat tight and aching. He’d already cried once today. He didn’t want to cry again. He bent and kissed her cheek quickly, lingering for a second to inhale that baby-sweet scent one last time, before he forced himself to straighten up and walk out of the room.

He didn’t look back.


	4. Chapter 4

Not long after Natasha slunk into the room, eyes downcast and radiating worried disapproval, there was a video call from Fury. Steve lost the next several hours to the chat, which wasn't really that surprising - calls with Fury always lasted for hours, if not days, as what remained of SHIELD's legal team struggled to hash out the arrest warrants that had been served for the team - so he didn't get the chance to ask her what was going on until they were finished.

"Something's wrong," Natasha said shortly, leaning back in her chair. 

"Wrong? With what? You mean like, with what we're doing?" Steve said, automatically peering down at his tablet. His eyes were tired from staring down at the screen. All he wanted to do was go find Rita and give her a cuddle. Look at his daughter for a while instead of at endless lines of black type.

 _His_ daughter. It was still bizarre to think those words in that order, even though Tony had been in Wakanda for days now. At first Steve (and the rest of the team, for that matter, particularly Clint) had been skeptical of the claim, but a quick test by T'Challa's personal doctor had proved that Tony was telling the truth. Rita was the biological daughter of Tony Stark and Steve Rogers. Like it or not, the two of them were linked forever.

And he was pretty sure Tony didn't. Like it, that is. He went out of his way to avoid Steve and the rest of the team, rarely spending more than a couple of minutes in the same room as any of them. When they were forced to interact, he kept his distance and spoke very little. It was at odds with the man that Steve knew, and it was a little like having a ghost around the castle. 

The ghost of Tony Stark. Steve shivered.

"No," Natasha said, drawing his attention back to her. "With Tony."

"There's always been something wrong with Stark. Tell me something I don't know," Clint said with a derisive snort.

The look that Natasha shot him at that moment was the deadliest glare that Steve had ever seen. Scott actually edged his chair away, seemingly not caring that it pushed him closer to Wanda if it meant getting away from Natasha.

"You seem to forget," Natasha said, maybe a little too calmly, "that Tony is the guy who you used to stay up all night playing video games with. The guy who spent weeks creating you arrows. The guy who sat on your daughter's bedroom floor and fixed her favorite toy car without being asked, not to mention every piece of junk in your barn."

"They're not pieces of junk," Clint muttered sulkily. Natasha's glare deepened.

"Are we going to start talking about Stark again?" Wanda asked. "Because I have something important to get to, so -"

Natasha slammed a hand down on the table. Even Steve jumped at the loud sound. "That's it. I've had it with every single one of you and your attitudes. You don't have to like Tony. You don't have to think he did the right thing. But fuck you all, you _know_ something bad went down between him and Ross. Rita doesn't exist because Tony woke up one morning and decided he wanted to have a baby with Steve!"

In the silence, Sam said quietly, "You know, it's not uncommon for survivors of rape to flinch when someone tries to touch them. And from what he said the night he came here... I don't know Stark as well at the rest of you, but -"

"Oh please. You're not serious," Clint said. "This is Stark we're talking about. He'll give it up to anyone who asks."

"Would he?" Steve said before he could stop himself. At Clint's surprised look, he added, "I'm not saying - that seems like a step too far. But you know as well as I do that Tony and Pepper were exclusive right up until they broke up, and I haven't heard about Tony dating anyone since then." Which, much as Steve hated to admit it, he was actually kind of glad about.

"Putting that aside, I'm worried about him," Natasha said. "And like it or not, he's the other father of your child." She was looking straight at Steve. "So are you going to talk to him, or are you going to keep your stupid head shoved in the sand like you don't know what's going on?"

"But I _don't_ know," Steve said, trying not to sound whiny. There was still so much unresolved between him and Tony. It was exhausting just thinking about it. Their last real conversation that hadn't revolved around Rita was - christ, it had been in Siberia. They hadn't actually talked about anything since Steve had left Tony behind. 

Part of him desperately wanted to talk to Tony now to see if things could be resolved. But a larger part was afraid that things would still be exactly the same. Steve didn't know if he was ready to face the same old headache. Both he and Tony were such stubborn people. He wasn't sure if he wanted to know whether or not there was some kind of resolution. It seemed easier to just ignore the elephant in the room and tiptoe around Tony.

"No need to worry, Captain."

At the sound of T'Challa's voice, Steve straightened up automatically. It was a relief to look away from Natasha's angry, penetrating gaze and turn to face T'Challa instead. The king had stepped just inside the doorway, hands linked behind his back. 

"What do you mean by that?" Steve said, confused.

"You don't need to worry about speaking to Tony. He's gone."

For about ten seconds, there was silence.

Then -

"What?" Clint exclaimed, shooting to his feet. "That asshole _took off_?! He dumped his kid here and just left? When I get on my hands on him - "

"You left your kids too," Natasha said cuttingly, and Clint went silent, speechless. Natasha looked at T'Challa. "Your highness, how do you know?"

"Rita was crying. When she didn't stop, one of the maids went in to see what was wrong. She couldn't find Tony anywhere. This was on his bed." T'Challa held up a single sheet of paper. "She brought both the letter and the baby to my attention immediately."

"May I?" Natasha said. Steve was shocked to see her hand was shaking a little as she held it out for the paper. 

"Of course." T'Challa handed it over.

Natasha read, "Steve. I'm sorry for dumping Rita on you like this. I didn't know where else to take her where she would be out of Ross's reach. It would've cost too much for Pepper and Rhodey to protect her, and I can't ask that of them. I'm hoping he'll be satisfied with me, but we all know I'm not worth very much." She paused for a moment, jaw tightening, before finishing with, "I left a little present for your friend downstairs. All I ask in return is that he help to protect Rita even though she's half Stark, and that you tell Rita I loved her. Tony."

"Jesus christ," Sam said under his breath. "He's going back to Ross."

"Wait. A little present? What does that mean?" Steve said, head spinning.

T'Challa sighed. "I had one of my engineers check. It seems that Tony hacked into the cryogenic chamber and reversed its process. In roughly the next eight hours, Barnes should be awake."

"He what?" Steve exclaimed. "Can't you reverse the process?"

"I'm afraid not, Captain. Once this has been set into motion, it can't be reversed without causing untold damage to the subject inside. We have no choice but to let Barnes wake up, and it will be a minimum of 48 to 72 hours before he can be re-frozen."

"Is this some kind of joke?" Clint said. "Is this supposed to be, what? His revenge? Bucky's not going to hurt anyone here."

"That's not all," T'Challa said mildly. "There was also a box containing a technology I am not familiar with, as it has not been released on the market. The Binarily Augmented Retro Framing system, better known as -"

"The B.A.R.F. system," Scott said. Everyone looked at him. He frowned. "What? I read things."

"Hang on, that's that... thing," Steve said. "With the memories. Tony had some presentations on it -" He staunchly ignored Natasha's raised eyebrow.

"Indeed. According to the letter left with the system, it should provide a way for Barnes to alter the memories when the code words were implanted into his head. Tony's theory is that, if the memories are changed or otherwise erased - Barnes' decision, not mine - the code words will be rendered null and void."

Steve stared at him, stunned. "So then... no one could control Bucky anymore? He couldn't be turned into the Winter Solider against his will?"

"Theoretically, that's correct."

"So Stark hacked into your system to de-frost Barnes, left that behind, left the letter, and then just... walked out?" Wanda asked, sounding deeply skeptical. "That doesn't sound like the Stark I know."

"That's because you don't know him," Natasha snapped. "All you know is the lies you've been fed by the media and Hydra. Steve!" She looked at him, sharp and desperate. "I told you something was wrong. Tony brought Rita here where he thought she would be safe, and now that he has the resources to get back to America he's going to turn himself into Ross."

Something cold seeped through the joy. Suddenly, Steve was reminded of that moment in the kitchen the first night Tony woke up. "He told me he didn't have any money with him," he said numbly. "I thought he was lying, or joking. Tony's always had money."

"Not anymore," Natasha said. "He hasn't made contact with Pepper or Rhodes since he got here. It took everything he had just to make it." She swore in Russian, low, cutting words that made Clint wince. 

"The night he arrived, he asked you to keep Rita," Sam said slowly. "I remember asking him where he was going, but he wouldn't answer me."

"He didn't want to give us a heads up. Not that it mattered," Natasha muttered.

T'Challa cleared his throat. "I debated for some time on whether or not I should bring this matter to your attention," he said.

"Of course you should! Why wouldn't you?" Steve demanded. 

T'Challa just looked at him like he was an idiot. "In the past three weeks, Captain, not a single one of you except for Agent Romanov have made any real attempt at speaking to Tony. Most of you treat him as though he doesn't exist; Miss Maximoff, you and Agent Barton were openly disdainful of him, mocking him to his back."

Wanda winced a little, but straightened her back. "That wasn't -"

"I don't need to hear excuses," T'Challa said, cutting her off. "I'm merely stating facts. In one way or another, all of you have made it clear that Tony was not welcome here. So I wondered whether I should tell you, or whether I should have my maid tend to Rita for the rest of the night so as to give him a better head start."

"You can't do that," Steve said.

"I could, but I chose not to for one reason. Not because of any of you, but because letting Tony go would result in his death. There is no doubt in my mind that Ross would, at best, arrange an accident for Tony. At worst, Tony would become his prisoner and suffer accommodations far worse than any of you did on the Raft. And I would hope," T'Challa said, expression hardening, "that none of you would even dare suggest that Tony deserves that."

Out of the corner of his eye, Steve saw Clint's mouth snap shut.

"So I made the decision to send two of my guards to find him and bring him back to the palace. He has a substantial head start, but I'm confident they'll be able to find him."

It was like a bubble popped in Steve's chest, filling him with a hot rush of relief so potent his knees got a little weak. He couldn't help remembering how Tony had looked on the day he arrived: beaten and weak, like there was no more fight left in him. He reached out for Tony's note and Natasha let him take it; Steve ran his eyes down the page, taking in the familiar script, the words burning into his brain.

Was this how Tony felt the day he got Steve's letter and that burner phone he'd never used? 

"I'd like to make something perfectly clear," T'Challa said, and his smile was pleasant but his eyes spoke volumes. "When he returns, he is to be a guest in my castle until the situation with Ross has been resolved. I will not tolerate any threats toward his person. You do not have to like him, but you will treat him with respect. Is that understood?"

There were some general murmurs of assent. Steve hardly knew what to think. In the span of half an hour, everything he thought he knew had been turned upside down. And the worst part was, most of this was not brand new information. The pieces had been staring him in the face since the moment Tony first walked into the castle, and he'd just been too stubborn to put them together. In the process, if T'Challa's guards couldn't find Tony, he might have cost Tony his life.


	5. Chapter 5

Had someone asked, Steve would've said he wasn't too bad at dealing with Rita. Sure, he'd relied pretty heavily on Clint and Scott at first, but after the first couple of days he got the hang of diapers and bottles and rocking her to sleep. Rita was, Scott told him with clear envy, a pretty good baby, rarely crying unless it was during a diaper change, and even then she would cheer up as soon as you made some funny faces at her. Steve kept thinking that all the way up until 5am the day after Tony disappeared, when he was pacing back and forth with a howling baby in his arms.

Rita would not go to sleep. No sir. Steve had followed the usual nighttime routine - bath, bottle, cuddle in the rocking chair, sleep, just as he'd watched Tony do repeatedly. But Rita was not having it. Before he'd gotten halfway across the room, intending to go check on Bucky's progress, she'd started screaming so loudly in the crib that Steve was convinced she was going to choke. He'd rushed back to her and scooped her up, thinking that maybe she'd hurt herself or was ill - but no. She just cried and cried.

He bounced her gently, head ringing with the sound of her constant cries. Nothing seemed to be good enough. She didn't want any toys, not even her favorite rabbit. She spit out pacifiers and screamed even louder when he'd tried to wrap her in a blanket. She refused to take a bottle and her diaper wasn't wet, so Steve literally had no idea what the problem could be. All he could do was hold her close, tucked into the crook of his arm, and walk around the nursery, hoping that she would run out of energy or at least cry herself to sleep sometime soon.

Sometime towards dawn, one of the maids poked her head into the room and raised an eyebrow when she saw Steve. "Still no luck?"

"No," Steve said shortly, trying not to yell at her. It wasn't her fault that he was turning out to be totally useless as a father. Tony always made it look so _easy_ , handling Rita with deft, sure hands and knowing exactly what to do to prompt a giggly smile. The only thing that Steve had prompted was a little bit of spit up when he bounced her too hard. 

"Did you try singing to her?"

"Singing?"

The maid nodded. "Her daddy used to sing to her all the time."

Her daddy. Tony. Steve hadn't known that. He shook his head. "I'm not a very good singer. Believe me when I say that would only give her a reason to cry even harder," he said, maybe a little desperately. "I don't know how he did it. I don't know how he withstood this for hours on end. It's only been - god, I don't even know how long it's been but I'm going to lose my mind."

She looked at him like he was an idiot, but sounded polite enough when she said, "I can give you a break, if you want."

"Please," Steve practically begged, crossing the room quickly. He all but dumped Rita in her arms and fled the room, the sound of her howls chasing him down the hall. He could hardly believe it when he turned the corner and the sound faded to silence behind him; he leaned against the wall for a moment and took a shuddering breath. If they could bottle that sound and play it during battles, then he was pretty sure all of their enemies would surrender pretty much instantly. 

Rita had never been like that before, but then again Steve had always been able to hand her back to Tony whenever he wanted. He had no idea how Tony had coped with that. Especially if Rita had cried like that on the way to Wakanda. Steve wasn't sure how much longer he could've put up with it. He was smart enough to realize that Rita was so upset because Tony was gone, but still. It gave him a new perspective on just how patient Tony really was. And it was just one more reason to pray that T'Challa's guards caught up with Tony and soon, or Steve was going to have a lot of sleepless nights in the near future.

"Steve? What are you doing?"

Steve opened one eye and turned his head slightly, realizing that Scott was standing there watching him with a confused expression. "Rita was crying."

Understanding flashed across Scott's face, and he nodded knowingly. "Say no more, man. I've been there. Cassie had colic when she was a baby. I'll never forget driving down the road at 3am, making endless circles around the block, because that was the only thing that helped her to sleep."

"I don't think I'm cut out for this," Steve said.

Scott laughed. "Sure you are. You just need practice, that's all. Besides, by the time she hits a year old, you'll have forgotten all about it. And then you'll miss the days when she couldn't talk," he added, rolling his eyes. "Cherish the days when they can't talk back to you while you've got them, trust me."

"Maybe," Steve said, unconvinced. He couldn't imagine trying to take care of Rita by himself, without Tony. What on earth was Tony thinking? How could he seriously think that Rita would be better off without him? Didn't he understand how selfish that was, leaving Rita behind? Steve would definitely have a few things to say to him, that was for sure.

"You will. But anyway, I came by to tell you that Bucky's awake -"

Steve didn't need to hear anymore. He bolted past Scott, heading for the small infirmary that most of the team had visited when they'd first arrived at the castle. Bucky had been transported there around 9pm last night, after he'd reached the point in the unfreezing where it became necessary for his body to receive outside help to lessen the strain. Honestly, even without the excuse of having to care for Rita, Steve still wouldn't have been allowed in the room: the doctor had made it amply clear that she needed privacy to do her work, and that Steve would be a distraction and not a help. 

He reached the room and saw that the door was open - and through it, that Bucky was actually sitting up in the bed and speaking quietly to one of the nurses. He still looked as fatigued as he had the day he went back into the chamber, but other than that he was whole and healthy. Steve couldn't help the sigh of relief that escaped him, and that's when Bucky looked up and saw them. Their eyes met for a few seconds before Steve grinned and walked into the room, ready to share the good news about the B.A.R.F. system with his best friend.

Needless to say, he was completely unprepared for Bucky to launch himself out of the bed and punch Steve in the face.

"Sergeant Barnes!" the nurse barked.

"Bucky!" Sam exclaimed. Steve hadn't even noticed him in the corner.

At first, Steve thought that they were facing the Winter Soldier. He was ready to subdue Bucky no matter how much it would hurt. But when he turned his head, Bucky had backed off. Sam had a hand on Bucky's shoulder and, amazingly, Bucky hadn't shrugged it off. He was still glaring at Steve, but those weren't the eyes of a stranger. It was definitely Bucky. Steve stared at him in bewilderment, lifting a hand to his aching jaw even as the serum kicked in and eased the pain.

“Bucky, what on earth –” he started to say.

“I might not remember much about the past,” Bucky said, his voice raspy and hoarse from disuse. “But the Steve Rogers that I do remember would never have been such a bully.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I heard everything Tony said to me while I was frozen. What the fuck is wrong with you, Rogers?”

“Everything Tony said to you?” Steve repeated, still confused. He glanced at Sam and the nurse to see if they understood, but neither of them seemed to know what Bucky was talking about either. “Buck, look, you’re tired. You didn’t really have a chance to rest after everything… take a seat on the bed and –”

“Don’t.” Bucky held his hand up warningly. “I might not have my metal arm, but I can and will punch you again anyway.”

“Okay,” Sam said, tightening his grip on Bucky’s shoulder. “That’s enough of that. Don’t make me separate you two. Come here, Barnes.” He gently backed Bucky up, easing him down on the bed. Bucky went with it, if somewhat reluctantly, perching on the edge of the bed and glaring at Steve.

“Watch the security cameras. I know the king would’ve had them installed down there just in case,” Bucky said finally. “But you – Tony did _everything_ for you and you threw it back in his face. For _me_. For _nothing_. Because you’re a stubborn, bull-headed asshole who thinks he knows best. Don’t come back here until you’ve made up for it. If you even can.” He turned away, shaking his head in disgust.

Steve just stood there and stared at him until Sam cleared his throat and meaningfully jerked his head at the door. Only then did Steve regain the ability to stumble from the room. He met Clint and Scott right outside; both of them wore identical frowns. Without a word, Scott ran to find T’Challa. Clint helped Steve to sit down in a chair and then sat down beside him.

“You think –” Clint started, but Steve cut him off.

“Don’t, Clint. I don’t want to hear it. I just don’t…” Steve trailed off and dropped his head into his hands. He needed a break from all of this. He missed the days when life made sense.

Scott returned with T’Challa, who went into Bucky’s room for a few agonizingly long minutes. When he returned, the king looked very thoughtful. But he beckoned to Steve to follow, and within twenty minutes the four of them were sitting in a small room with a television and someone from T’Challa’s security team was setting up a system too complicated for Steve to follow. Natasha and Wanda joined them just as the man finished. He bowed to T’Challa and exited the room.

“Why are we watching this?” Wanda asked. Natasha shushed her with a look.

The quality was crystal clear when the film started; Steve didn’t know why he’d been expecting something grainy and unclear. Tony was walking into the room where Bucky was, holding Rita in his arms. He stood there for a couple of minutes, just looking at the cryogenic chamber, before he spoke. Steve honestly thought his heart would crack in half when Tony called Bucky “Uncle James”. Even Natasha gasped quietly.

But even that was nothing compared to when Tony called Peggy “Aunt Peggy”. His head snapped up and he stared at the television in shock. 

“What – Tony knew Peggy?” he said.

Both Clint and Natasha looked at him in surprise. “Didn’t you read anything from Tony’s file? The one that Coulson gave you?” Clint asked, stuttering momentarily over Coulson’s name. “Peggy Carter and Howard Stark weren’t close, but they were friends. Peggy was Tony’s godmother.”

“I didn’t know,” Steve said stupidly. He’d only read a little of Tony’s file before tossing it aside, convinced he already knew enough about the showy playboy so he didn't need to read the rest. And it hit him, in a sudden flash, that he had never once asked Tony about his past. Howard was such a dodgy topic between them that Steve had avoided the subject entirely. He swallowed hard. Tony had lost Peggy too, but Steve had acted like she belonged to him and him alone.

T’Challa had paused the video, but now he continued it. The first several hours – and just how much time had Tony spent down there? – was Tony telling Rita stories of the Howling Commandoes, as told him to by Peggy, intermingled with stories of the Avengers. It was amazing just how many stories Tony remembered. T’Challa skipped through most of them, but Steve resolved to come back and watch the whole thing from start to finish. He needed to hear everything in Tony’s voice.

Finally, there was only twenty minutes left and T’Challa hit play. Steve sat in stunned silence as Tony broke down crying, practically begged Bucky to protect Rita even though she was half Stark, and openly admitted that Ross was going to kill him when he returned to New York. And – above all – claimed that was a _good thing_ because he thought he would ruin Rita, and that he’d been as useful to the team as he was going to be. As though Tony was a commodity like money or water, and was only good so long as he had something to give. 

Sitting there, staring at the broken man that he’d – that they’d all – had a hand in breaking, Steve thought he was going to throw up. 

Natasha had a hand over her mouth, but it didn’t disguise the horror in her eyes. T’Challa and Scott seemed equally sickened. Wanda’s face was completely blank; it was hard to tell what – if anything – she was thinking. Clint was the only one who caught Steve’s eye. He was clearly trying to keep his cocky attitude in place but it was slipping, and around the seams Steve could see regret mingled with disbelief.

It was the first time that Steve could admit to himself that maybe none of them, especially him, deserved Tony Stark.


	6. Chapter 6

Just over twenty-four hours after he fled the castle, Tony returned. Steve got the news while he was changing Rita's diaper and could have cried from relief. He hurried through the rest of the change as fast as he could, carefully putting the new diaper on and guiding her squirmy little arms and legs into the onesie. Then he washed his hands, scooped Rita up, and bolted for the door.

Tony looked pale and wan and kind of sick, truth be told, but also very determined. His arms were crossed in front of his chest and he was scowling. Steve had to wonder how the guards had gotten him to agree to return, considering how pissed off he was. And he had to have agreed, because it had taken Steve a long time to learn that very few people could make Tony do what he didn't want to do, and frankly speaking in the long run, it wasn't worth the inevitable revenge Tony would come up with.

Used to come up with, Steve amended silently, thinking back to the footage. Based on what they'd seen, Tony didn't believe he was worth anything. It was very likely that this anger was just a facade for the confusion that Tony was undoubtedly feeling. The whole situation made Steve feel like a piece of garbage. Never once, not in all the fights he'd had with Tony, had he ever thought that Tony was worthless, or even thought that Tony could think that way.

Showed how much Steve knew. For a so-called master strategist, he knew he'd been pretty blind.

T'Challa had been speaking to Tony quietly. But when he saw Steve come in, he shot Steve a meaningful look - a look that was, quite clearly, a warning that spoke more than words ever could - and slipped out of the room, leaving the two of them alone. Tony started to turn away, obviously intending to leave the room as well. But then Rita let out an excited squeal, making grabby hands in his direction before Steve could even say a word. Tony froze instantly.

"She missed you," Steve said, seizing his chance. If he didn't make things better now, or at least try, he would lose his chance forever. And he'd failed Tony so thoroughly that he couldn't let that happen.

"She's just a baby. She'll forget all about me in a couple of weeks," Tony replied, still not looking at them. 

"Even if that's true, there's no reason why she has to. You're her father, Tony, and a damn good one at that."

Tony snorted. "Yeah, for now," he muttered. Louder, he added, "Look, Steve. I only came back because T'Challa said he had some ideas on dealing with Ross that might help to keep Pepper, Rhodey and Vision out of the line of fire. I'm not staying. I can't."

"You can't, or you don't want to?" Steve asked.

"Does it matter?"

"Yes! Jesus, Tony. I know I haven't been a very good friend to you. Actually, I probably don't have the right to call myself your friend at all. But I can't in good conscience let you walk off to be killed!"

"It's not your decision to make," Tony snapped. "Contrary to your belief, you're not the boss of everyone. We're not on the field right now so you can't tell me what to do."

Steve had to bite down to keep from snapping back that even on the field, Tony didn’t listen. Sometimes it was like everything Tony did pushed all the right buttons to brew a fight. Two months ago, Steve would've eagerly risen to the bait and within ten minutes, they would've been yelling at each other until one or both of them got fed up and walked out. That was how it usually went. But this time, he was conscious of the fact that Tony was doing it on purpose. He wanted Steve to get angry and storm out. 

"You're right," Steve said, surprising them both. Tony actually turned around to stare at him. "I can't tell you what to do. But I can tell you that I don't really want to raise Rita by myself. I need a lot more practice before I'm ready to take care of her even half the time. I could really use your help."

"You won't be alone. You have the team to help you." Tony's expression didn't change, but there was a note of sadness in his voice, and Steve winced inwardly. He suddenly remember writing that letter, and how he'd said that the Avengers were Tony's family more so than his. He'd meant those words while writing them, but somehow they hadn't turned out to be true at all: except for the Vision and Rhodes, the rest of the team was here with Steve in Wakanda. 

"I don't want their help. I want yours."

"Tough shit. We don't always get what we want."

"No? Because I have the feeling that you've spent a hell of a lot of time turning yourself inside out to try and make sure that the team and I _do_ what we want, and we just never noticed."

Tony stared at him in astonishment. It was probably the first time Steve had ever left him speechless. It was too bad that it hadn't happened under better circumstances. He decided to take a chance and closed the distance between them; for the first time, he was paying enough attention to notice the way that Tony stiffened a little when Steve got into his personal space. The reaction, and what had likely provoked it, made Steve furiously angry, but he didn't let it show on his face.

Moving slowly, he held his arms out until Rita was pressed against Tony's chest. On autopilot, Tony's arms rose to curl around her until she was comfortably supported. Only then did Steve let go, letting Tony take her weight. He took a couple of steps back and looked at Tony, though Tony was no longer looking at him. He was staring down at Rita, and the look on his face, that desperately affectionate look - it hurt.

Anyone who said Tony didn't have a heart just needed to see him right now.

"You're a good father to her," Steve said softly. "And I think you always will be. I would gladly tell her all about you, but she deserves to have you around. She deserves to grow up knowing who her daddy is, don't you think?"

"I'm not a good person. I'll ruin her," Tony said, though much of the fight had left him.

"I disagree. I know we've had our differences. We've both made mistakes. It's not possible to start over completely, but... Will you please stay here in Wakanda with us? At least for a little while?"

"Steve..."

"Please, Tony. I know we can figure something out. Together." It was probably cruel to throw the idea of the team back in Tony's face when Tony was the one who'd tried so hard to keep them all together. But it was the only thing that Steve could think of that might sway Tony's decision. 

Unfortunately, Tony scowled again. “That’s funny. When I was trying to keep the team together, you didn’t give a damn. Besides, everyone else has made it pretty clear they don’t want me here. I’ve had a lifetime of having to watch my back at every second because someone might try to stab me; I'm tired, Steve.”

Steve winced. “Natasha wants you here. So do Sam and T’Challa and Scott. Clint and Wanda… I’ll talk to them.”

“I don’t need you sticking up for me.”

“It’s about time someone did,” Steve countered. “I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry for the times I didn’t listen. I’m sorry you got hurt. I’m sorry for not talking to you about Peggy.” Tony stiffened at that one, but Steve pressed on. “I’m sorry for leaving you behind. I’m sorry that I left you to deal with Ross by yourself. I’m sorry I wasn’t there to stop whatever he did to you. I’m sorry –”

“Stop,” Tony said. He lifted Rita so that he could press his face into her hair – to inhale her scent or to hide tears or both or neither, Steve didn’t know. 

“I’m sorry,” Steve said quietly, one last time. He’d never liked apologies. It wasn’t something he had a lot of experience with. But he was willing to learn if Tony would stay.

After a long pause, Tony muttered, “I don’t think you can fix this.”

“I’d like to try,” Steve said, meaning it with every fiber of his body. After watching that video footage last night, he’d gone back to Rita. She’d cried herself into exhaustion sometime around six in the morning, and Steve had sat down in the rocking chair and just held her, too afraid to put her down for fear she’d wake up. And while he’d rocked her, he’d thought about what it would have been like to receive word from Pepper or Vision that Tony was dead. To find out after the fact that Tony had, essentially, sacrificed himself to keep everyone safe. It was chilling to think just how close they’d all come to letting that happen. 

Tony sighed and looked up. “I told T’Challa I would give it a couple of days. No longer than a week. I guess we can see how it goes. But Steve, Ross has to be stopped. I won’t let him threaten Pep or Rhodey or anyone else. They’ve been through enough.”

There was a lot that Steve could have said at that moment, but there was no point. Enough had been said already. He just said, “We’ll figure something out. I promise.”

“I’ll believe that when I see it,” Tony mumbled, but he wasn’t running away, so Steve considered that progress.

“Are you hungry?” he asked, choosing to ignore the comment. “When was the last time you ate?”

“I had a banana this morning.”

And before that? Steve didn’t ask, but he wanted to. He was pretty sure that the answer wouldn’t be a good one. “T’Challa does a pretty good breakfast, if you want to join us.”

The words were out before he realized that he’d never issued Tony that invitation before. None of them had. He was so used to Tony just swooping in to join them – but then, that was always in the Tower. This was completely different. Of course Tony wouldn’t just walk in and sit down, considering how things had been left between him and the rest of the team. Steve really was an idiot.

“Sure,” Tony said slowly, clearly doubtful. “Has Rita eaten yet?”

“Ah, no. I’ll get her a bottle and you can feed her. Come on.”

It was a big relief when Tony actually fell into step beside him. They walked down to the dining room, trailed by the same guards that had brought Tony back in the first place. Natasha, Sam, Scott, Clint, Wanda, T’Challa – and, to Steve’s shock, Bucky – were already sitting around the table. The conversation, already tense, ceased completely when Steve and Tony entered the room. For a long moment, no one said anything. Then Natasha got up, walked over to Tony, and punched him in the arm.

“Ow!” Tony squeaked.

Natasha called him something very impolite in Russian, then said, “If you ever scare me like that again, you’ll regret it.”

“I didn’t think you’d care,” Tony said, frowning.

“I care,” Natasha said, very simply, and hugged the two of them. She whispered into Tony’s ear, too soft for Steve to hear, but whatever she said made Tony relax a little.

There were two chairs left at the table; Steve took the one beside Sam, leaving Tony to sit between him and Natasha. He couldn’t help staring across the table at Bucky. The last time he, Tony and Bucky had been in the room together, there had been a serious fight going on. Steve hadn’t thought they would ever progress beyond that, but here they were.

“Stop it,” Bucky growled. “Stop giving me the puppy eyes. I’m still pissed at you.”

“I’m not giving you puppy eyes,” Steve lied. Sam snorted.

Bucky’s glare deepened, but only until he looked at Tony. “Stark.”

Tony looked at him very warily. He’d picked up to the bottle that was already waiting for him at the table and was in the middle of coaxing Rita to grab onto the nipple. 

“I know you don’t wanna hear it, but thanks for the B.A.R.F. system. And I’m sorry.”

“You’re right, I don’t want to hear it,” Tony said, shifting Rita as she began to suck.

Bucky ignored that. “I’ll protect her. And I’ll protect you too.”

Tony’s eyes widened. “I, uh, that’s not what I asked for.”

“Tough.”

“Seriously, you don’t have to –”

“I said tough,” Bucky repeated serenely. 

“Just Rita is fine,” Tony tried, but it was evident Bucky was no longer listening. Tony turned to Steve, looking lost, but all Steve could do was shrug. Tempting though it was to try and smooth things over between them, he was pretty sure this was something he needed to stay out of.

“Want some food?” he offered, and Tony rolled his eyes. Steve just smiled back at him, irrationally glad that Tony was here and hopeful that maybe things weren’t ruined after all – that with all of them working together as a team, they’d make it.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [tumblr](http://tsuki-chibi.tumblr.com/).


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